Famous Last Words
by The Snow Leopard
Summary: Grisham says the wrong thing to Helm one too many times. Trio #34 Challenge (for the Queen of Swords Fanfic list: bar of soap, wine bottle, latch-key *and* QUOTE 1: "Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame."


"Famous Last Words".  
Author: Paula Stiles  
  
Rating: PG for Grisham language  
Feedback: Always  
Summary: Grisham says the wrong thing to Helm one too many times.  
Disclaimers: Funnily enough, Fireworks still owns `em and I don't.  
  
Trio #34 Challenge (for the Queen of Swords Fanfic list: bar of soap, wine bottle, latch-key *and* QUOTE 1: "Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame.   
" - Benjamin Franklin  
  
  
FAMOUS LAST WORDS  
  
"Ow! Ow! Owww!" Grisham yelped as Dr. Helm dragged him outside to the horse trough near the soldiers' quarters. "Doc, leggo! That hurts!"  
  
"That's the point," Helm chided Grisham. Taking a firmer grip on Grisham's ear, he twisted. Grisham yelped even louder, scaring two nuns who had arrived in town just yesterday. They jumped back, eyes wide, from the horse trough where they had been getting water for their mules.  
  
"Hey!" Grisham yelled, as Helm patted him down and dug through his pockets. "Doc, we are *not* that close." Helm's search ended when he triumphantly held up a latch-key.  
  
"Well, well, well," he said. "Look what we have here--the new key to my back door."  
  
"Shit," Grisham said, cringing inwardly. "Uh, look Doc, it's not what you think."  
  
"Oh, I doubt that," Helm retorted. "I've seen a good deal more of the world than you realize, Captain. So, young Maria Theresa *did* see somebody spying on her as she was changing her clothes in my examination room this morning. You have a very dirty mind, Grisham. I think it could use a good wash." Before Grisham realized what Helm was doing, the doctor had grabbed him by the back of his   
neck and shoved his head into the trough. Grisham nearly drowned on his own yell of protest.  
  
"Goddamnit, Doc, that's not funny!" he spluttered, when Helm let him back up.  
  
Helm clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Such language. I should wash your mouth out with soap but I don't have any--Oh, thank you, Sister Sarah," he said as one of the nuns, the short, pale one, scampered forward   
to press a bar of homemade soap into his hand. Helm favored her with a crooked smile that would have made an abbess abandon her convent. Both of the nuns giggled and simpered in response.  
  
"Don't even think about it, Do--AUGH!" With the same twisted smile that he'd bestowed on the nun (though it looked far more sinister to Grisham), Helm shoved the bar of soap into Grisham's mouth. The soap tasted, predictably, of smoky, rancid fat. Grisham gagged, and tried to yank free. Helm, however, still had hold of Grisham's ear. He twisted said ear cruelly, causing poor Grisham to sink to his knees next to the tub.  
  
"I should make you eat the whole thing," Helm said cheerfully. He looked over at the nuns. "What do you think, Sisters?"  
  
"Dunk 'im." They passed judgment in unison--then crossed themselves. In unison.  
  
Helm grinned down at Grisham. He was obviously having the best day of his lousy, miserable week. "What about you, Captain? What do you think? The soap or a bath?"  
  
Grisham glared up at Helm, then reluctantly spit out the soap.  
  
"Fair enough," Helm said. Hauling Grisham to his feet, he tipped him over into the trough. As Helm threw him in, the Englishman finally let go of Grisham's ear.   
Grisham floundered around, splashing slimy water all over the place. He noted sourly that Helm had jumped back before any could get on him. At least he kept his head above the water this time, and managed not to swallow any more horse slobber.  
  
"I'll get you for this, you bastard," he snarled at Helm, who was now being congratulated by the nuns on an exorcism well done.  
  
"Now, now, Captain," Helm scolded him. "Remember what your countryman, Benjamin Franklin, always said: 'Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame.'" He pocketed the latchkey. "Please try to remember that the next time you treat my office as your personal brothel."  
  
For a brief moment, Grisham thought he might get a shot at Helm's retreating back. No such luck. As Helm backed away, the two nuns closed in on either side of him like anxious sheepdogs. Grisham knew better than to splash them. There was Hell, and then there was Hell for guys who crossed nuns--even if the water was now getting into his boots. Grimly, he watched his enemy turn and   
leave the field, triumphant and unscathed.  
  
"Oh, Doctor," Sister Sarah simpered as the three of them walked away. "Perhaps you could join Sister Bernadette and me for lunch. We have a lovely bottle of dessert wine from Valencia that you really must try."  
  
"Why, thank you, Sister. I'd be honored to share your meal," Helm purred. Just as nuns and doctor passed out of earshot, Grisham heard the two sisters giggle. In unison.  
  
END 


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